


No Apologies

by Kamaevis (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Dave, Dom/sub, M/M, Safewords, Sub!John, this is just badly written smut that's really all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 17:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Kamaevis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's overwhelmed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Apologies

“Ready, baby?” 

You're seated, cross-legged, at the foot of the bed, your supplies sitting just a bit to your right. John's stretched out before you on his knees, his ass hovering just a little below your eye level. His hands are bound to the headboard with a scarf that Roxy had gifted to you for Christmas last year—you don't doubt she'd meant for it to be used like this, it was a gaudy thing that neither of you would wear but it was also soft and didn't chafe John's wrists—and there's a blindfold secured over his eyes. You can see the tremor along his back, running all the way to his quivering thighs, but he bobs his head in a nod anyway. 

You lift a hand and swat at his ass, “Use your voice.”

He jolts when your hand makes contact, and you see the way he stiffens. You wait, seeing if he wants to safeword. After a moment of silence, he murmurs,

“Yes, sir.”

You grin, “Good boy.”

You reach for the lube, popping the cap open and watching the shudder that ripples down John's spine. You drip some into the cleft of his ass and he makes a startled noise.

“Cold,” he gasps, and you chuckle low in your throat but don't grace him with a response.

You watch the lube slither down toward the pucker of his asshole before pouring some onto your palm and clicking the bottle shut. You scoop the thick liquid onto your index finger and swirl your thumb in it to warm it a bit. When you're sure you're not going to give John frostbite, you press your finger to his entrance and he squeaks. 

His body's resistant like it always is. You have to take it slow, working him open with slow, deliberate movements. You can't go too fast because there's hurting him for play and then there's _hurting_ him, and that's the last thing you ever want to do. He moves his hips a bit in discomfort, and you lean forward to press gentle kisses to his back and whisper comforts and praise into his skin. When your finger is in to the knuckle, you twist it slowly, curving a bit to find-

_“God.”_

There. You smile as John heaves in breaths beneath you, his entire body trembling. You draw your finger out so you can fit your middle finger—appropriately slicked—in beside it. You watch the flush creep down his neck and over his shoulders so you can no longer see the freckles there. It's a shame; you adore his freckles even if you don't bear much love for your own.

By the time you have three fingers tucked inside him and massaging his prostate, his back is bowed in a way that can't be comfortable—but hell was the dude flexible, so what did you know—and he's doing little more than gasping and hiccuping broken attempts at your name. You dry your free palm on the towel that your tools are laid on before bringing it up to cup his hip and slide down his thigh. 

God he's so gorgeous. Affection swells in your chest as you listen to his incoherent pleas. Such a beautiful man, slender and soft, almost feminine, but god you'd seen him when he was working construction and you know he's far stronger than he looks. And you can see that strength in him even when he's helpless beneath you because you'd never be able to do this, to take this treatment like he does. He puts so much trust in you, lets you bind him and blind him and leave him vulnerable and completely at your mercy. You kiss his back and vocalize your love for him, and he cries out.

You sit back again and withdraw your fingers. He whines and his hips chase your fingers and you correct him with a sharp slap on the opposite cheek than you'd struck last time. 

“Don't be greedy. Now, babe, are you ready?”

His answer is immediate this time, “Yes, sir. Please, _please.”_

You take the vibrator a slick it generously. 

“Just say the word and I stop, alright?”

“Yes, yes, please, just, _please,_ god.”

He's sobbing now, and you know he's crying. He always does when he's overwhelmed like he is now. You want to give him what he wants, of course you do, but you want to make sure that he'd completely comfortable. You've done this before, tied him up and teased him with a vibe, but never like this, never when he'd been stripped of his sight and his sensitivity was heightened so far.

You press the tip of the vibrator at his hole and he releases a shaky breath. 

You work it inside far easier than your fingers had gone. 

“Tell me when I hit it, babe, or I won't know.”

John nods and you press it in further. It takes a moment of searching before he jolts and cries,

“There, _god,_ there.”

You twist the vibrator and press it harder into the spot before turning on the vibrations. He cries out loud, his entire body quaking and his fingers curling tight around the bars of the headboard. His knuckles are white and he's sobbing openly now, making desperate, broken sounds that are far from coherency. 

You flick the power up a level higher and he sags against the bed completely, his knees barely holding his hips up. He's quiet save helpless gasps of air for a moment before he speaks, voice little more than a breathy whine.

“Red- god, please, _red.”_

You cut the vibrator immediately and stamp out the urge to wrench it out. You want to get it done as fast as possible, but you're not going to risk hurting him. 

“Okay, okay, baby,” You say as you draw it slowly out, “Okay, we're stopping, sh, John, it's alright.”

You toss it aside carelessly once it's gone and you move around him to untie his bindings and the blindfold. He curls in on himself, gasping with tears pouring down his cheeks and you can feel the guilt eating at your stomach. It was too much, shit, shit, it was too much.

“John,” You say quietly, “John, I need to get the ring off.”

Little hiccuping sobs shuddering from his chest, he nods and rolls onto his back. You release the cock ring gingerly, and toss it off to the side. 

You move to the edge of the bed and grab his blanket, the one you'd bought for him and he lets you bundle him up in it, “You need anything? Water?”

He nods mutely and you press a kiss to his sweaty forehead.

“Okay, I'll be back in a second, alright? I'll be as quick as I can.”

Another nod and you're gone. You ignore the aching between your own thighs as you move, hurrying as quickly as you can. You know you shouldn't feel guiltly; it's not the first time he's used his safeword, but you can't help it, not when he'd looked so wide-eyed and helpless. You'd done that to him. It had been negotiated and you'd both known exactly what was going to happen, but it had still been you. 

_Fuck._

You get his water and get back to the room as fast as you're able. You sit gingerly on the bed beside him and help him sit up. He tries to take the water but his hands are shaking and you gently wave them away, putting the glass to his lips and letting him sip.

When he gives you the okay, you put the water on the bedside table and pull him close. 

“Sorry,” he whispers fitting himself against your chest and letting you cradle him like a child, “Sorry, it-it was just too-”

“Hey, no,” you push your mouth against the top of his head and murmur into his hair, “That's what the safeword's for, John. You don't need to apologize for using it.”

He nods then leans back a little to look up at you,

“It's not your fault, either, Dave,” He says seriously, “So you don't get to feel guilty, okay?”

You smile weakly, “Yeah, okay.”

He leans up to press his lips chastely to yours. You smile wider and kiss his nose when he pulls away, then his cheeks and forehead. He giggles and twists in your lap and kisses your jaw.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

You kiss him soundly and mouth your return of the sentiment against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry i shouldn't write smut ;A;


End file.
